


My Lord, Who Brings the Day

by The_Grynne



Category: Lucifer (Comic)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-13
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 21:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Grynne/pseuds/The_Grynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before Lucifer's duel with the angel Amenadiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Lord, Who Brings the Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lab/gifts).



There is a jagged wound in his side that will not close, however much he wills it. Kneeling beside him, Mazikeen cleanses it of blood, her touch gentle yet matter-of-fact, a task more becoming of a servant than a leader of vast armies. That she can be both is a thing that he has long elected not to understand. 

It was Lilith's defiance of Yahweh, her refusal to worship and adore, that drew him to take her as confidant. They were of a kind, two stars daring to burn with their own light. 

What binds Mazikeen to him: something else entirely. Rarer, perhaps, and more mysterious. 

'Do you remember,' he says, 'an offer I once made? I asked if you wanted rulership over the Archduchy of Effrul, the very place where I now await the coming day's battle.' 

'Ancient history, my lord.' Mazikeen pauses in her ministrations, replacing the bloody sponge in its basin of water, before turning up dark eyes. 'The word that you used, I believe, was "reward".'

It was what he thought she wanted. Power and status, quid pro quo. A gift in return for the years of loyalty she'd already given him. Years he had never asked for, and was initially reluctant to accept. 

'And do you recall your answer?'

She nods, once, without averting her gaze. 

 

 

The court was full of sycophants, demons and fallen angels all jockeying for Lucifer's favour. The instant she spoke, garbled as always but her meaning clear, she felt the ill-disguised scorn of the assembled focused on her. 

_If I do this, my lord, it shall be because it is your wish, not mine._

On what he resolutely refused to call his throne, Lucifer leant forward, fascinated. 

_And what is your wish?_

_Only to be with you, and to serve you always._

_That is of little consequence to me, but no inconvenience either._

And then he laughed, a sound familiar to her from childhood, and beckoned her close.

 

 

She is the most mystifying creature he's ever known, a willing satellite. It is an irony very much to his taste, that he can no longer live without her.

'Has it changed, your answer?'

'No, my lord. Nor shall it ever.' 

 

_The End_

13 March 2012

**Author's Note:**

> One crucial line, probably my favourite sentence in Lucifer canon, was stolen almost verbatim from issue #29: "It was an irony very much to his taste, that he could no longer live without her."


End file.
